The Exchanging of Souls
by swfdgirl37
Summary: After My Bloody Valentine. Sam is in the Panic Room. Dean isn't. Something changes that. Rated K plus at the moment, later chapters may be rated higher for language content. Chapter 6 is up.
1. The Hellish Beginning

**The Exchanging of Souls**

**_The__ Hellish Beginning_**

Sam's screams echoed from Bobby's basement, specifically the Panic Room where he was locked. He had succumbed to his desire for demon blood, due to Famine's presence. He was having hallucinations and suffering from intense pain from the demon blood leaving his system. And there was nothing anyone could do to help.

Dean had just returned back inside, sitting now on Bobby's couch, trying to block out the cries and pleas for help unsuccessfully. He just wanted it to be over, for everyone's suffering to end. He wanted Sammy back the way he should be. He wanted to stop feeling so empty inside.

Dean started to get up to get another drink.

Just then, Sam let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"God…" Dean said. Why Sammy? It could have been anyone else that had to deal with all this, and they pick Sammy? Why him?

And of course, Sam's screams and pleas for help increased, screaming for someone, anyone, to help him. He screamed for Cas, for Bobby, for Dean. No one would come though, and Sam knew it. He still tried.

Dean just wished there was something he could do to make it stop.

* * *

He was going to die.

Fire, burning through his veins, scorching every particle of his being to a cinder, eating away at every last reserve of willpower he had left.

Sam couldn't take it anymore.

He wanted to die.

He just wanted to pass out and to never wake up. He wanted all his pain and guilt to end. He wanted everything he had done, every sin he had committed, and everyone he had betrayed to stop eating away at him like the fire in his veins.

He just wanted it to be over.

* * *

Finally, Dean went to sleep. After numerous suggestions which later turned to orders to go to bed from Bobby, Dean decided that he could sleep without something happening to Sam while he was unconscious. Bobby and Cas would be there making sure nothing happened, he could rest for just a few hours.

And so he did. He closed his tired eyes and did his best to ignore the screams from the basement, and eventually, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

He woke up what felt like seconds later in Hell.

* * *

Suddenly the pain had ended. He didn't feel any pain, anywhere. Sam suddenly found himself, not in the Panic Room, but in a bed. A bed in one of Bobby's spare bedrooms.

He sat up, confused and fearful that this was some hallucination trying to trick him into a false sense of security and peace.

He slowly and carefully stepped out of the bed, taking small steps toward the door. Movement out of the corner of his eye stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned quickly, ready to attack whatever it was, until he realized it was Dean.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, but his voice sounded wrong, familiar, but wrong, and when he had spoken, so had Dean.

Sam took a slow step toward Dean, and watched as at the same time Sam moved, Dean did too.

That was when Sam noticed the rectangle around Dean. A mirror. It was a _mirror._

And then he noticed the screams coming from somewhere downstairs, screams that should be coming from him right then…

He looked back at the mirror, and everything suddenly clicked in his foggy mind, and if he was right then in the Panic Room, screaming bloody murder, was Dean.

_Oh God…_

"AAAAGGGGHHHHH!" A sudden scream from the basement tore at Sam's eardrums with its volume, and caused Sam to run downstairs, finally making the situation all too real to avoid doing anything any longer.

Bobby sat on the couch with a beer. He looked tired, in every way that a man could be tired.

He noticed Sam standing there, prepared to sprint to the Panic Room at any moment, and said, "I told you, Dean, you need to get some rest, Sam'll be fine,"

Sam remained silent for a moment, and then quietly said, "I'm not Dean," keeping his eyes on the ground.

"What was that?" Bobby said in a low voice, rising from the couch. He set his drink down then stepped up to Sam, "What did you say?"

Sam took in a deep breath, "I'm not Dean, I'm Sam."

"Are you telling me," Bobby started slowly, "that the man down there screaming his lungs out right now…is Dean? What, and you've miraculously been spared while your brother has to suffer?"

Sam winced, "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"What has that boy done?" Bobby groaned, "Not that I want you to be down there right now, Sam, but…"

"Yeah, I know," Sam muttered.

Castiel suddenly appeared in the living room.

"Bobby, it's no longer Sam in the Panic Room, it's-"

"Dean. We know," Bobby stated, looking at Sam in Dean's body, "We just don't know how."

"I do," Castiel stated, "this is very different from your previous encounter with spells of this variety. This time it isn't demonic, it's angelic. The angels have done this, but I don't know why."

"Why would angels do this?" Sam asked.

"I honestly have no idea," Castiel said, "but whatever the reason, it can't be for our benefit."

* * *

It finally stopped, if only for a moment, it stopped. He could think. All this time he had been certain he was back in Hell, but he realized that made no sense. How would he have gotten back in Hell, and why? But no, looking around himself he saw the walls of the Panic Room, and looking at himself, he saw Sam's clothes, Sam's arms, Sam's body.

He wasn't in Hell, at least not his Hell. He was in Sam's Hell.

And as soon as he came to this realization, the pain returned, a thousand times worse than before.

At least it wasn't Sammy though.

He could take this. He had to take this.

* * *

So…this idea just popped into my head and was like "Write me, dangit!" So I did, and this is the start.

Please tell me what you think!

Reviews are amazing.


	2. Well This is Fun

**The Exchanging of Souls**

**Well…This is Fun**

The next couple of days were slow and suspenseful. Bobby worked on finding out why the angels had swapped Sam and Dean's bodies, and Castiel would show up occasionally for brief visits, always reporting that he still hadn't found a way to reverse the spell.

Sam didn't do much or say anything. The guilt he had been feeling increased ten-fold. He had screwed up, and now Dean was suffering for it.

At first he hardly noticed that he was in the wrong body. Of course, he noticed that it was the wrong face in the mirror looking back at him, and he no longer towered over Bobby and Cas like he used to, but other than that, not too much had changed.

And then on the morning of the second day, he noticed the real difference between their bodies.

A weight that he had never known existence seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders. He felt more human than he ever had before in his life, uncontaminated, untainted. He couldn't describe it to himself, let alone someone else, but he could feel something different in his blood. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it when he had swapped bodies before, maybe because he had been too preoccupied with being kidnapped, and now he had time to think.

Whatever the reason, he found some solace in it.

He could hear Dean's screams no matter what part of the house he was in. He tried going outside to get away from it, but heavy rain fell from the sky at all times.

Then, even though he knew it was Dean screaming, it was _his _voice screaming, and listening to himself screaming all hours of the day was chilling. Hearing what he sounded like during a detox, it was terrifying. Hoarse pleas for help, wordless screams, begging for death…

And he hated himself, because deep within him, he was glad he got out of it.

* * *

The pain slowly dwindled away. Bit by bit, piece by piece, he could feel fire leaving his veins. There was still a dull throbbing everywhere, but it was so much better than before.

He was still strapped to the cot. He had hardly noticed during the detox, he wouldn't have at all if it weren't for the fact that something had been trying to throw him off the cot and all over the room. He was guessing that was the demon blood powers thing.

And then he remembered that he hadn't slept in days. Fatigue overcame him with that realization, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Finally, the screams slowly ended.

Sam did not want to be the one to go to the Panic Room when Dean woke up. He felt ashamed. He hadn't had to deal with the aftermath of his mistake, Dean did. And now the brother that did everything for him was strapped to the cot he belonged on.

But Bobby was busy and even if Castiel were around, he wouldn't know what to do. So that left Sam.

After stalling for a while, Sam decided that he couldn't wait any longer. If Dean was already awake, then he would be waiting for someone to let him out of there, and leaving him there for longer than was necessary was cruel, especially since he had done nothing to deserve being in the Panic Room.

He slowly made his way down to the basement, and then hesitated for a moment outside the door. What was he supposed to do?

"Hello?" came a hoarse call from within the Panic Room.

Sam sighed, and gathering his willpower, opened the door.

He stood frozen in the doorway for a moment at the sight of himself, pale and covered in sweat. He knew from what he saw of himself and how he felt after his last detox that it wasn't a pleasant sight, but seeing what he looked like from an outsider's perspective was frightening.

Then he remembered why he was here and walked over to the cot. Dean laid facing away from him, until he felt the restraints on his wrists loosening. He turned as Sam got the first strap undone.

"Hey, Sammy," he said quietly, attempting a weak grin, "you're looking better than ever."

"I wish I could say the same about you," Sam said as he finished the last restraint, guilt heavily lacing his words.

Dean's chuckle sounded like a cough, "I know, but I guess not both of us could've gotten the looks," his voice was barely above a whisper as he slowly sat up

"That's not what I meant, Dean."

Dean sighed, "This isn't your fault, you know that, right Sam?"

After a brief hesitation, Sam whispered, "Yeah, I know."

Dean knew he didn't, but he let it go. What else was he supposed to do? He started to stand up, only to feel pain shoot up everywhere.

"Ow, damnit."

"Here, do you need me to-" Sam said hurriedly, reaching down to help Dean get up.

"Sam. I've got it."

Sam backed off while Dean struggled to his feet. He pushed off of the cot, and stood hunched over for a moment, wavering slightly. He started to take a step forward, only to stop suddenly. He looked at Sam who immediately offered his shoulder for support. They slowly made their way upstairs this way, and when they got there, Dean slumped onto the couch looking exhausted.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, Sam, I'm just gonna sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, I'll just…be in the other room. Just yell if you need anything."

"Okay, Sam."

With one last glance, Sam left for the other room. He ended up in the library with Bobby, who was still researching.

"Is he alright?" Bobby asked.

"I guess."

"Are you alright?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused by the question.

"I mean, you're not beating yourself up over this are you? 'Cause it's not your fault."

"I'm fine, Bobby," Sam said quietly, avoiding the question.

Bobby was about to voice his disbelief when Castiel suddenly appeared in the library.

"I know why the Angels did this."

* * *

Terrible cliffy, I know, but I tried.

Please review, I would appreciate that very much.

And as the future ruler of the world (mwahahaha), you would do well to earn my favor.


	3. Blood

The Exchanging of Souls

Blood

"I know why the angels did this."

"What?" Sam gasped, jumping to his feet. It had looked like Bobby was about to say something to him, but it could wait for this, "Why?"

"Zachariah did this to you, he feels as though this could potentially help Armageddon begin," Castiel said, his eyes flickering to Bobby's for just a moment.

"How did you find this out?" Sam questioned him.

"An angel close to Zachariah told me. Apparently it's not much of a secret; Zachariah wanted us to find out."

"But how could this help anything?" Sam asked, taking a step toward Castiel.

"I don't know," Castiel stated, the lie apparent in his voice, "Zachariah is getting desperate, he's willing to try anything-"

"Cas," Sam interrupted, "what aren't you telling me?"

Castiel sighed, "Zachariah did this because he believes that you have no willpower, and therefore will be easily persuaded into allowing Michael to take Dean's body."

There was silence for a moment, then "So…what? He thinks that I would just hand over Dean's meat suit to Michael, that I would just give up? I wouldn't do that!" Sam said, his voice rising slowly as he approached Castiel. Then he suddenly stopped, "I would never…" he whispered, more to himself than the others.

Sam's voice came from the doorway, where Dean stood. No one had realized he had been standing there until that moment, and there was no telling how long he had been watching. He looked tired and defeated, but much better than before. When he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper, "We know you wouldn't, Sam. Hell, if anyone was about to give up my meat suit it would be…" he trailed off.

"Dean?" Sam said, turning away from Castiel to face Dean.

"Nothing, Sam, never mind."

"Dean-"

"Sam. Can we just… not fight right now?" Sam reluctantly quieted, and Dean turned to Castiel, "What about Lucifer? How does he fit into Zachariah's plan?"

"He thinks that this will cause Lucifer to have to remain in his current vessel, which is disintegrating every day, causing for a weaker Lucifer and a guaranteed win for Michael."

"But don't they want to have everyone in their true vessels?"

"It was originally desired for the true vessels to be used, yes, but Zachariah feels as though this solution will be acceptable."

There was silence in the room for a few minutes.

"I can't believe Zachariah seriously went _Freaky Friday _on us," Dean said.

There was another beat of silence in the room, and then Bobby snorted.

"Ya damn idjit."

Sam let out a pent up breath and chuckled, then turned to Castiel, "So did you find out how to reverse this?"

"Yes."

Sam blinked, and then turned to Dean who looked surprised, obviously expecting to hear the opposite, "Uh, great, then let's get started on reversing it."

"It requires two angels to work, and even if we could find another angel willing to help us, I'm cut off from heaven. I don't have enough power."

"But there's got to be some way to fix this," Dean said angrily.

"If there is, I don't know what it is. I'll continue searching, but…"

"But you probably won't find anything," Sam finished for him.

And as it does during all tense moments, silence entered the room.

* * *

That night, Sam and Dean lay awake in their beds. Neither could fall asleep, so they just laid there, staring at the ceiling, for hours.

* * *

The next day, while Sam and Dean were researching, Bobby rolled into his library after just getting off the phone.

"There are some demonic omens springing up in a town a half hour from here, you boys think you could look into it?"

Sam and Dean looked at Bobby in surprise and confusion, then Dean said, "Don't we have a _slightly _bigger problem on our hands right now?"

"Oh right, let's just get started on fixing that then, shall we? How do we fix it, Dean?" Bobby asked sarcastically, "No ideas? So in the meantime, go down to that town and find the damn demon."

"Alright, alright," Dean said defensively as he and Sam left for the Impala.

* * *

Later, they had found the demon's nest easily. It was the type of demon they used to hunt; low pay grade and cocky as Hell.

They killed it with the demon killing knife, and its blood ran out onto the floor, and clung to the blade.

Dean looked down at the knife, and he could smell the blood. He _wanted _it so badly. The urge to drink the blood off the knife, to get down on the ground and drink from the demon's wound was overcoming him. He _needed_ the blood. He raised the knife slowly with a trembling hand, and stared into the deep red liquid that was just begging him to-

"Dean?"

* * *

They had killed the demon easily, and when blood spilled from the demon, Sam had no desire to drink it. He didn't feel _anything_. He felt…normal, completely normal.

He had started wiping down their prints, all the usual things they had to do after a hunt, when he had noticed Dean just standing in the middle of the room, staring at something in his hands.

It was the knife. It was the _blood._

_Oh…oh God._

"Dean?"

Dean didn't move for a moment, and then slowly looked up at Sam with blank eyes.

"Dean," Sam said, taking a step toward Dean. He reached out and took the knife from him, and suddenly a light switched back on in Dean's mind. He blinked, and seemed to realize what had just happened. He took a step back, looking back down at the puddle of blood. Then, without a word, he grabbed a rag and started wiping down their prints.

Sam sighed, glancing down at the knife, no longer with the satisfaction he'd had. He quickly wiped the blade off and joined Dean.

Dean was going to be disgusted with him, now that he knew the pathetic desire Sam had condemned himself to, and now Dean had been condemned to it too, if only temporarily.

How much more could this spell put them through?

* * *

TBC

* * *

Finally re-finished it! Yay! Sorry it took so long; my computer crashed : (

Please Review!


	4. Aftermath

**The Exchanging of Souls**

Aftermath

Hours later, Sam and Dean arrived back at Bobby's house.

Dean Winchester was quiet, a very rare occurrence that only happened when he had something on his mind.

He was walking up the stairs to the room he and Sam shared, while his brother went to find Bobby. The entire ride back, Sam had seemed nervous, Dean wasn't sure though; he'd never had to read his own facial expressions.

He reached the top and began to walk through the open doorway, cursing when his head made contact with the doorframe.

"Stupid freakishly tall son of a…" he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Ducking, he entered the bedroom, and sat down on his bed, his thoughts suddenly bursting from the back of his head.

So…demon blood.

There was no point avoiding thinking about it any longer, it had been threatening to take over his thoughts for the past hour.

His brother had condemned himself to _that?_ And for what? To get revenge on Lilith?

_But he thought that he was saving the world._

But did he really? He said that's why he did it, but that doesn't mean it was true.

_Why would he lie?_

Why _wouldn't _he lie? He was high on demon blood!

_But he was still your brother._

Was he?

His thoughts were interrupted at that moment by the sudden presence of Sam in the room. They looked at each other for a minute, Dean waiting for Sam to say something, Sam trying to figure out what to say.

"I'm sorry," Sam said finally, his eyes darting to the floor, intently analyzing the floorboards.

"For what?" Dean knew what.

"Everything," he said, "I'm sorry about Ruby and the demon blood and Lilith and the Apocalypse. I'm so sorry, I don't know what else I can say, or do, to make it up to you. Everything that's happening, it's all my fault, I know that and-"

"Sam," Dean interrupted, "I'm not mad, and how is this your fault? What, did you _ask _Zachariah to do this?"

"No, but-"

"Then it's not your fault, so stop worrying about it."

"But Dean-"

"I'm gonna go do some research," Dean said, cutting off Sam. He turned and headed for the door. "Are you coming?"

Sam stood there for a moment, looking pained, and then gave a sharp nod as he followed Dean out the door.

* * *

As it turned out, Bobby had found something while they were gone. It wasn't anything huge, it couldn't switch them back or anything, but it could help point them in the right direction.

Sam and Dean sat facing each other as Bobby pricked each of their fingers. Blood oozed from the tiny punctures, and Bobby collected the small red drops in a bowl. Several herbs were added to the mix, and then he set it between the brothers, and began reciting something in Enochian. Smoke rose from the bowl, and the lights started flickering. Bobby continued reciting with an increased fervor.

When he finished, the smoke that had been rising from the bowl flared, and the contents of the bowl were on fire, the flames eating away at the herbs.

"Well, what does that mean?" Sam asked, eyeing the bowl cautiously.

"It means that there's no other way to fix this than what Cas told us," Bobby replied, standing.

"So what are we gonna do?" Dean asked.

"I don't know."

At that moment, Castiel appeared in the room. He had someone draped over his shoulder, unconscious.

"I believe I may have found a solution."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm so very sorry for the wait again (and for the shortness of this chapter), I'd like to say I had a good excuse, but I don't...sorry, *SPOILER ALERT* unless you count depression brought on by the soullessness of Sam. What did you guys think about this chapter? I wasn't a huge fan of it myself, but I would love to be told otherwise, or have someone agree with me, in a review.

**Delayed Disclaimer: **I obviously don't own Supernatural, stop trying to sue me!


	5. Elijah

**The Exchanging of Souls**

**Elijah**

"I believe I may have found the solution," said Castiel.

"Holy crap, Cas! Who is that?" Dean asked, springing from the floor to his feet.

"An angel," Castiel said matter-of-factly, "the angel that helped Zachariah perform the soul-exchanging spell."

"So?" Sam stated, "I thought you needed two angels at full power to perform the spell."

"I do, but perhaps this angel can lead us to another, one who might be willing to help. And he'll know how to execute the spell properly."

"An angel that's willing to help?" Dean laughed, "Yeah, after we find him we'll go track down the Holy Grail, maybe we'll find Santa Claus on the way, too."

Castiel shot him a glare, "I believe I was both willing to help and an angel."

"Yeah, but you're, like, one in a billion, Cas," Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure that the quantity of angels is that great…" Cas stated, his eyebrows burrowing in confusion.

"It's an expression, Cas."

"Oh."

Bobby cleared his throat loudly, "Can we get back to the unconscious angel in the room, if you two are done?"

"His name is Elijah, and he's been acting as Zachariah's right hand man for a while now. If nothing else, he should be able to provide us with information about any future plans Zachariah may have."

"If we can get him to talk," Sam said.

"And I'm pretty sure we've never gotten an angel to 'fess up to _anything _before," Dean added.

"There's a first time for everything," Bobby said, shrugging.

""Let's face it, this guy's never gonna tell us anything that he doesn't want us to know. That's all there is to it. He's not going to help us, he's not going to change us back, why are we even bothering?" Dean shook his head, "It's just not gonna work."

And that's when the angel began to come around.

They had completely forgotten that they actually had to keep the angel from leaving before any interrogations could begin.

"Crap!" Dean shouted while Sam frantically began pouring holy oil. Bobby quietly slipped out of the room; he didn't want to be involved in any of this.

Sam just finished making a ring of the oil and had it lit when the angel, Elijah, realized what was going on.

"You don't need to that, Sam, I'm here to help," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, right," Dean said, "I've heard that before-"

"Wait, how did you know I'm Sam?" Sam interrupted.

"I'm an _angel, _genius," Elijah replied, "I know _everything_, including how to get you back into your tainted meat suit."

"You said you were going to help us, why?" Dean asked, disbelief heavily lacing his words, "Aren't you in with Zachariah?"

"Not so much," Elijah said, shaking his head, "At least not anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"It means it was fun at first, you know, screwing you guys over, but then I realized that the apocalypse means, well, _the apocalypse._ After that particular realization, I wasn't really on board with helping Zack anymore."

"Really? That's the best you've got?" Dean asked sarcastically, "I've heard better excuses from three year olds."

"Look, do you want my help or not?" Elijah said, annoyed, "I'm here to get you back into your right bodies."

"Why would you go through so much trouble to stay hidden if you wanted to help us?" Castiel asked him, "And why would you put up so much of a fight?"

"Well I had to make it hard for you to find me, didn't I? I couldn't just waltz up to you and tell you I wanted to help, you'd never bring me here then. And I have to say it, Castiel; I was being easy on you. You're kind of a pansy."

"What kind of help are you offering?" Sam cut in quickly while Castiel's eyes bulged, "It takes two angels to perform the spell, right?"

"Yes, it does, the spell to switch you two in the first place. However, we won't be using that spell to switch you back. I'll be using a lovely little thing I like to call a back door."

"There is no back door," Castiel said, "I searched for one for days."

"It's a _hidden _back door," Elijah whispered conspiratorially, "only somebody who helped perform the spell in the first place would know about it."

"So what do we have to do?" Sam asked.

"You don't do anything," Elijah said, "I cast the spell, you guys go through some crazy dreams, you wake up, and badda-bing badda-boom, you're back to being the Devil's Bitch and Dean's back to being the Michael Sword. Any questions?"

"Hold on a minute, 'crazy dreams'? What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"The usual, probably some tests of will or the like."

"'Probably'?" Sam asked.

"Well how would I know?" Elijah huffed, "I've never switched bodies before!"

"Why should we trust you?" Dean asked, "You could be making everything worse."

"You should trust me because I'm an angel of the lord," Elijah smirked.

"Smartass," Dean muttered.

"Look," Elijah said seriously, "I won't convince you, no matter what I say, so you're just going to have to go with your gut."

"What do you think?" Dean asked Sam.

"I think that we have no other leads, and we have to try anything that might work."

"You're sure?"

"I think so."

"Fine," Dean said, "get it over with."

Elijah snapped his fingers, and everything went blurry for the Winchester brothers.

"It's that easy?" Dean said groggily, fatigue suddenly overcoming him.

He could hear Elijah laughing from someplace far away, "Of course it is," his voice echoed strangely through the room, "back doors are always easy."

And then everything went black.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Holy Crap, that took forever to write. I typed the first part over the course of, like, a month, and then churned out the rest in 30 minutes. My creativity hurts.

I have now introduced the angel Elijah. He's kind of a D. But whatevs.

This chapter...I don't really like it. But it shall do until the next chapter I suppose.

If you liked this, review. If you hated this, review. If you are currently reading this while eating a pomegranate, review.


	6. Dreams

_**Warning**: Lots of crazy, some language, and creepiness._

**The Exchanging of Souls**

**Dreams**

Screams. He could hear them coming from all around him.

Dean Winchester had been here before.

Hell.

Opening his eyes, he found meat hooks in his shoulders, sides, and legs. Blood flowed smoothly from his wounds, dripping into the depths below.

_It's just a dream_, he reminded himself. _Just a dream._

But he could feel the hooks ripping flesh, tearing muscle, and annihilating his self control.

He struggled to remain calm, knowing that it was nothing more than a dream, but wanting nothing more than to wake up.

He closed his eyes, hoping that he would find himself back at Bobby's house in his own body.

He should have known better; the universe never has mercy on a Winchester.

* * *

"Sam!"

He opened his heavy eyes to see the stained ceiling of Bobby's house. He could feel a difference in the way his heart beat, in his breathing, in his bones.

He sat up to find _Dean _standing in front of him. _Dean _Dean, as in Dean in Dean's body.

The spell had worked.

He sighed mentally, he could feel the demon blood coursing through his veins already, but stood and smiled in false happiness anyway.

"It worked," he said in what he hoped was a cheerful voice.

"Yeah," Dean replied, a cold look in his eyes, "it did."

"What's wrong?" the taller Winchester queried worriedly. Sam took a step toward his brother, only for Dean to take a suspicious step back.

"You know, Sam, I always knew you were a freak," Dean said angrily, "ever since you were a kid. I think you knew it, too. You were always trying too hard to be 'normal.' And then you got into demon blood, and started using powers. But I still held out hope for you. I thought, surely, you'd be able to pull yourself together and find a way to get past that. I thought we could be brothers again."

"Dean-" Sam began, his eyes widening and his voice pleading.

"I'm not done, damn it!" Dean shouted, "That's your problem, Sam! You think you're more important than anybody else! You always have to be the center of attention, like some spoiled brat. That's why you always ran off when we were kids, because at least then Dad would pay attention to you. God, I hated you. I was the perfect son! I did _everything _for him and you! But you, the snarky freak that always had to mouth off, you were his favorite. And when you ran off, who had to deal with Dad? Me! While your lazy ass was off vacationing in a hotel room."

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, "I'm so sorry…"

"I always knew you were a freak," Dean repeated, "but now I know how disgusting and pathetic you really are."

* * *

"Dean," a familiar voice called from the abyss.

Dean opened his eyes, finding himself no longer suspended by meat hooks, but instead strapped onto a table. He looked to his right, and quickly located the origin of the voice.

"Sam?" Dean whispered, his eyes widening in shock. His brother stood in shadow before him, a crooked grin dominating his features. He held a knife, turning it over in his hands, feeling the blade slide silently over the palm of his hand.

"Of course," Sam replied. He moved into the light, revealing blood soaked arms. "Were you expecting somebody else? Alastair maybe?"

When Dean didn't reply, Sam let out a loud laugh, "You were! C'mon Dean, don't you remember? I killed him with my…" he leaned in to where he was inches from Dean's face, "…my powers," he whispered secretively.

"You're not Sam," Dean muttered, glaring into the imposter's eyes.

"Eh, close enough," Sam replied, he set the knife down and picked up a scalpel, analyzing it in the harsh light.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, watching with trepidation as the man chose which instrument to begin with.

"It means," Sam said happily, "that I'm what you _think_ of Sam, or me, well both of us, really."

"No, I would never think Sam's anything like you," Dean spat, "you're just some crazy freak show."

"Oh, a freak show, that doesn't sound anything like your brother," Sam replied sarcastically. "God, I am so sorry. I didn't realize that it's completely normal and sane to drink demon blood," he smirked, "Don't lie to yourself, Dean. You know your brother's a monster; he's just the only one that you won't kill. Your mistake."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked, his heart beating loudly in his ears as Sam approached him with the scalpel.

"Oh c'mon, you know how this is all going to end. You kill Sam, a lot of people die, and the world ends. If you'd killed him a long time ago, well I guess it wouldn't have mattered, right? Because your brother's the Devil's bitch."

"Oh, wait, I forgot. You guys aren't in your right bodies. So, Sam's going to crack, give your body to Michael, and go off to kill Lucifer. You'll both live that way, only, he's not gonna be all there afterward, you know…" he twirled his finger by his head in the standard gesture of insanity.

"Shut up," Dean growled angrily, "just shut up."

"Oh, so we're done with the talking part of this meeting?" Sam smiled, "Great. I've been waiting for the fun stuff."

* * *

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked miserably, "Why now?"

"Because I'm leaving," Dean answered him, "And I'm not bringing you with me."

"What?" Sam said, startled, "You can't! I thought we're supposed to stick together?"

"Not anymore, I can't stand to be in a room with you anymore, let alone travel with you," Dean replied with a look of disgust, "not now that I know what you are."

"I'm your brother!" Said shouted, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"No you're not," Dean said, "I have no brother."

* * *

Bobby and Castiel watched cautiously as the Winchester brothers writhed silently on the living room floor.

"Should we move them somewhere more comfortable?" Castiel asked.

"Nah," Bobby replied, "they'll be fine."

* * *

**Delayed Disclaimer: **Totally don't own Supernatural, yo.

**Author's Note: **Woo, that was weird to write. I kind of felt like I was writing about a weird, violent, creepy acid trip gone wrong, you know? Anyway, I would like to take this oppurtunity to thank everybody who has reviewed this story, favorited it, or added it to story alert. It really means a lot to me, and I love you guys.

SPOILER ALERT!

Anybody else going psycho crazy now that Cas is psycho and Sam is probably crazy?

END OF SPOILER ALERT

Anywho, please review! It would make my day, and I would send you eternal love!


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